


The Tale of Two Indies

by EminEmily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, One Night Stands, Size Kink, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3007751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EminEmily/pseuds/EminEmily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, and Jess attend one of Charlie Bradbury's legendary Halloween parties. Unfortunately, Dean discovers that someone is wearing the exact same costume as him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of Two Indies

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It has been a loong time, and I'm very sorry for that. Writer's Block is my constant companion and likes to smack me around a lot. This one sat unfinished in my docs for the longest time, but I liked it too much to abandon it. I finally manned up and finished it. So I hope you enjoy! It was supposed to be a PWP, and man did I try to make it that, but the story ran away with itself and ended up being a lot longer than intended. I also tagged pretty much every character mentioned in this story, even though some of them are only there for one scene, sorry if that annoys anyone! Also sorry if there's any weird spacing issues, AO3 never likes the way I try to type my fics.
> 
> **Edit** I hit 1k hits! Thank you!!

Dean smoothed his hands over his sides, trying to get the last of the wrinkles out of his shirt. He wolf-whistled at his own reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him. "Sammy, come look at this, I look damn good. This is probably the best Halloween costume I've ever had." He smirked at himself, tugging on his brown leather jacket to complete his look.

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I know, Dean, you're very excited to be Indiana Jones. Can we just get going now? Jess and I have been ready for, like, ten minutes."

Dean turned around, leering jokingly at Jess in her Elsa costume. Sam stood beside her, arms crossed, wearing his Hans costume. Dean had joked that his sideburns were perfect as Hans, so Sam went ahead and dressed as him. Jess liked to say that they were what could have happened if Hans wasn't a total douche, so the matching costumes worked for them. Jess played with her carefully braided hair. "Yeah, c'mon Dean, I could have found the Ark of the Covenant all by myself by now."

"Hey, perfection like this takes time!" Dean proclaimed, grabbing his hat from the table.

"Sure it does. Can we just get going? Charlie will be wondering where we are." Sam leaned away from the doorway and walked to the front door, holding it open for Jess.

Everyone knew that no one threw a Halloween party like Charlie Bradbury, and this year would be no different. Dean was pretty excited to go, and admittedly didn't want to waste any more time. "Yeah, sure, let's go." He held his hands out, motioning for Jess to go before him. "M'lady," he smirked, tilting his hat at her.

Jess shuddered, "Don't talk to me like that with that hat on."

Dean just laughed and followed her out to the Impala, Sam trailing behind.

 

When they got to Charlie's house, they could tell exactly which one it was. It was lit up from the inside out with awesome-looking Halloween decorations, and the whole house boomed with heavy bass. This was shaping up to be the party it promised to be. Dean was practically dancing in his seat by the time they found a parking place near the curb.

"Dude, this looks like it's going to be awesome." He said, eyes wide as he took in all the jack-o-lanterns and lights strung up everywhere. It looked like something from the Halloween edition of _Better Homes & Gardens_, though Charlie's house always looked like that. The girl was good at what she did.

Sam came out of the car after him, opening and shutting the door for Jess. They all stood by the side of the Impala, collectively impressed with the spread before them.

"You ready, boys? This may even be the best night of our lives." Jess hedged, elbowing Dean in the side.

Dean rubbed his ribs "Ow," he joked, pouting at Jess. "And this might be a good night, but I don't think it'll be _that_ good."

Jess shrugged, grabbing her frosty-looking cape with both hands. "You never know, Dean, it just might be." With that she fled towards the house, cape flowing behind her. The edge of Sam's mouth twitched up into a smile before he followed her, and Dean laughed, leaning away from the Impala and hurrying behind.

The inside of the house was just as busy as the outside. People were packed in everywhere, all sporting Red Solo Cups. Her house was just as done up inside, as well. She had fake cobwebs in all the corners and smoke machines in some rooms and everything. Her whole house had the eerie Halloween feeling, offset by the music and all the people dancing. Dean felt his ass get groped at least three times before he even made it to the kitchen to find Charlie, but he didn't mind much. He was pretty proud of his merchandise. He lost Sam and Jess in the crowd, too, but that didn't matter much, either; they'd have parted ways eventually. He'd meet up with them later by the front door.

He found Charlie in the kitchen, leaning against the island and talking up some girl dressed as a fairy. She was in her badass, completely accurate, medieval knight fear, topped with a dainty-looking crown. She was the queen of the castle, after all, especially tonight. Dean slid up behind her and bumped her with the handle of his prop whip, smiling widely at her as she turned around.

“Dean!” She beamed, a tad on the tipsy side already. Her hands were a little grabbier than usual when she reached for Dean's arms.

“Hey, Charlie!” Dean called, “Sorry we're late. Jess took forever to get ready.”

Charlie laughed, “Yeah, I'm sure it was Jess.” She surveyed Dean with a look. “You look good, man, pretty accurate Indiana Jones costume, if I do say so myself.”

Dean nodded, proud of himself. “I know, right? It took a while to find everything online, and I even had some of it custom tailored.”

The fairy girl brushed her hand against Charlie's elbow, and Charlie jolted suddenly like she'd forgotten something. “Oh, yeah, Dean, this is Gilda. Gilda, meet my best friend, Dean.”

She moved out of the way as Gilda's hand came forward to grasp Dean's. “Nice to meet you,” Dean smirked, side-eying Charlie. She just winked in response.

Gilda smiled, yelling over the music, “It's nice to meet you, too!” Her voice almost tinkled as it floated through the air. If Dean didn't know any better he'd say she actually was a fairy.

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, sensing that he should probably leave Charlie to it. “I'm gonna go get a drink, I'll see you later,” he called out.

“'Kay! Bye Dean!” Charlie laughed, flashing him a Vulcan symbol, before she turned around and zeroed her attention back on Gilda.

Gilda called out a “It was good seeing you!” before she and Charlie got involved in some sort of weird flirting maneuver where Charlie was twirling Gilda's hair around her finger.

Dean rolled his eyes, snorting softly. Charlie could work fast when she wanted to, the lesbian had way better moves than Dean sometimes, he'd freely admit that. He liked to think he won style points for being able to woo both genders, though.

He left the kitchen and tried to fight his way through the crowd to get to the table with the drinks on it. He saw a similar table nearby with the lacrosse team playing beer pong, and he made a mental note to join a game later. He liked beer pong.

The minute he finally got his drink in hand was the minute he noticed him. There was a guy leaning against a wall across the room, and it was like a bell went off in Dean's head when he noticed him. He was average height, brooding-looking in way that made Dean want to get to know him better, and even from across the room Dean could see his piercing blue eyes. There was only one problem, the guy was wearing the exact same fucking costume as Dean. That was unacceptable.

Dean pushed his way through the packed bodies until he got near the guy. He took a gulp of his beer and looked him up and down. “Dude, what the _fuck_ ,” he called out, drawing the guy's attention to him.

The guy looked confused for a second before he looked at Dean and snorted. The snort turned into a full-on laugh, and Dean thought that he might have been wrong earlier with his brooding assumption. The guy just naturally looked grumpy until you coaxed a laugh out of him, apparently. Then his whole face lit up and Dean was drawn in immediately. The guy had a strong jaw and a fair amount of stubble. He looked rough in a way that Dean loved. His mind flashed to a similar scene with the guy, except Dean was on a bed and the mystery dude was leaving stubble burn all across his thighs. He shook his head to dissuade those thoughts, focusing back on the guy in question.

“No, seriously, what the fuck?” Dean asked. “How'd you get almost the same exact costume as me? Some of this is custom.”

The guy smiled at him, nothing more than a quirk of his lips. “Let me guess, Mr. Crowley did the tailoring for you to make it more legitimate-looking.”  
Dean stilled his movements, stunned for a moment by the deep voice that came out of the guy. It matched him, and yet it really didn't. “Yeah, he did, how'd you―oh no,” he groaned. “That son of a bitch, he totally did the same thing for you.”

The guy laughed, “It appears he did.”

Dean groaned again “This is great. This is just awesome.”

The guy stuck his hand out. “I think it will be okay, there's a lot of people here, I can get lost in the crowd and no one will ever have to know that we're in the same thing. I'm Castiel, by the way.”

Dean shook his hand, sighing, “Yeah, I guess you're right, Cas. I'm Dean.”

The guy, Cas, raised an eyebrow. “Cas?”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, Cas. I'm sorry, I tend to nickname people, do you want me to not call you that?”

Cas shook his head, “No, no, it's fine. I've just...never really gotten a nickname. Besides the one my friend and brother gave me, but I hate that one.”

Dean leaned into him, nudging him with his elbow. “Aw, what is it? Tell me.”

Cas sighed, “Cassie. They both call me Cassie.”

Dean laughed, “Ooo, man, that's a harsh one. But I also call my little brother Samantha so I guess I can't say much.”

“Oh so you're one of those big brothers. Let me just speak for your brother, as well as all younger brothers out there, and tell you that you suck.”

Dean considered that for a moment. “Fair enough, I do suck in certain situations.” He offered a wink Castiel's way and was reward with a blush.

“Uh, I'm not sure how to reply to that,” Cas stuttered a bit, and Dean laughed again.

“Don't worry about it, Cas, I'll leave you alone now. Have fun, and stay away from me! We don't need anyone else to know we're wearing the same thing!” He chuckled and leaned away from Cas, searching again for the table with the alcohol on it. He saw nothing but blue eyes in his mind and he wanted to drink that away as fast as possible.

He downed a couple of cups of beer, found Charlie in the kitchen again, did a couple shots with her, and somehow found himself back at the beer pong table. A few of the football players were in a heated competition now, the lacrosse players having found something else to do along the way. Dean stopped at the table, watching as Benny Lafitte bounced his little white ping pong ball right into the cup across the table, cheering with everyone else as he forced Victor Henriksen to chug the drink. Dean cheered, too, laughing with his friend. He and Benny weren't best friends by any means, but they were on good terms with each other. Dean photographed the games for the school newspaper sometimes, and Benny was really appreciative of it. Dean enjoyed his gruff attitude and southern manners.

“Ay Dean, whatcha doing over in this neck of the woods?” Benny asked, turning to face him as Victor lined up his shot.

Dean shrugged, “You don't miss one of Charlie Bradbury's parties, especially Halloween ones.”

Benny chuffed and clapped him on the shoulder. “True that, brother. Wanna take over from me? I think I just saw Andrea walk in.”

Dean rolled his eyes at his friend's hopeless crush on Andrea, one of the cheerleaders. “Yeah, sure, go ahead and run after her.”

Benny smacked him on the back again and threw a “Thanks” his way before he scurried off after Andrea, the crowd parting before him. The guy was massive and no onewould get in the way of that. He wasn't quite as tall as Sam, but he was more muscular, and no one would touch that with a ten-foot stick. Dean learned that the hard way when Benny decided to stick up for him against assholes. Benny was unstoppable.

Dean turned his attention back to the table and watched as Victor sank his shot. “Yeah, take that, Winchester!” Victor fist-pumped.

Dean smiled and drank his drink. “That's the only shot you'll get, my friend!”

“Sure it is,” Victor laughed.

 

Dean discovered over the next few minutes that he was absolute shit at beer pong that night. He normally dominated the game, but Victor kept sinking his shots and Dean kept missing his. Halfway through the game he started blaming it on the blue eyes that still wouldn't leave his mind. It's like they were staring holes into his insides, and it made it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

He was totally tired of it by the time Victor made his last shot. “Oh, man, Winchester, you were really off your game tonight.” Victor teased while Dean tipped his cup back. “You might wanna work on that.”

Dean gave him the finger, “Fuck you, Henriksen, I was too drunk to begin with.” Dean could feel his brain slowing a little bit. He'd had a lot to drink tonight. He wiped the side of his mouth off on the sleeve of his jacket. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go find a bathroom.”

He was tottering off towards the bathroom he knew was by the stairs when he felt a body hit his. He bounced back a bit from the impact and groaned. “Hey, watch yoursel--” he began before his eyes met blue one. Piercing blue ones. The same ones from earlier. “Oh...Cas...” he trailed off.

Before him stood Cas in all his glory, eyes shining with his own drunkeness, smiling up at Dean. He had to tilt his head just slightly to look at Dean. He wasn't much shorter, but the layout of Charlie's house mean that Dean stood on higher ground. “Dean!” He called out. “I didn't think I'd be seeing you again.” His words only slurred a little, he was less drunk than Dean.

“Yeah, well, here I am. Now move, dude, I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

Cas obliged him, and Dean sighed when he finally got his fly down. He felt like he'd been about to explode. He washed his hands off and gave his hair a cursory fixing in the mirror before he put his hat back on and left the bathroom. Cas was still there, leaning against the wall by the bathroom door. “I forgot to tell you earlier, you can work the costume better than I can. You look more like him.”

Dean snorted, feeling himself lean towards Cas despite himself. “Yeah, well, you should still change out of yours. This proves that people will see that we're wearing the same thing, if it's possible for me to see you twice.”

Cas laughed, and Dean fidgeted. All he saw was his eyes, all he heard was his voice. This was getting ridiculous and he was getting frustrated. “I think we'll be okay, Dean, does it really matter?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded, his hands in fists. “Yeah, it does matter, actually. I'm going to need you to put something else on.”

Cas looked confused for a second, tilting his head. “You want me to what?”

Dean resisted the urge to stomp his foot. “Take off the costume, Cas. You can't be wearing the same thing as me.”

Cas jerked his head back, surprised, eyes wide. “What? Take off the―I can't take off the costume.”

Dean nodded fiercely. “Yes, you can, and you will. Take off the costume, Castiel.”

Cas shook his head, “No, I shouldn't have to. You take off the costume, Dean.”

Dean stepped into Cas's personal space, heat in his eyes this time when he looked at him. He was going to get Cas out of his head no matter what it took. “No, you don't understand, Cas. I need you to _take off the costume_.”

Cas licked his lips nervously, and blushed when he saw Dean follow the movement with his eyes. “I―I think I can make that happen,” his throat clicked as he swallowed loudly.

Dean nodded, more of a jerk of his head than anything else. “Good. Good, follow me.” He grabbed Cas's hand and started pulling him upstairs towards the bedrooms, pushing past people as fast as he could.

He rounded the corner into the first bedroom and stopped short when he noticed two people already in there. He squinted for a second, trying to discern who it was. He felt both disgusted and proud when he noticed it was Sam and Jess. _Yeah, get it Sammy_ , he thought, before he turned on his heels and pulled Cas back out of the room.

The next room was Charlie's, and Dean knew no one would be in there. He also knew Charlie might kill him if she discovered him in her bed, but at the moment he didn't really care.

He practically kicked the door open to get inside, hauling Cas in with him. As soon as they were both inside Dean slammed it shut behind them, making the figurines on the shelves rattle as he pinned Cas against it. “You and your stupid hat and stupid jacket. And your fucking eyes, Cas,” he panted, as if that would explain it all.  
Cas tilted his head at him, breathing heavily as well as he let Dean box him in. “I could say the same to you,” he smirked.

Dean decided he didn't like his smirk, so he'd just kiss it off. When his lips met Cas's it lit a fire deep inside his gut, it sparked a riot inside him. He laved his tongue against Cas's bottom lip, nipping slightly and pushing for entrance. Cas tilted his head to allow him in, and Dean licked against his palette while he pushed the jacket off his shoulders. “I thought I told you to take this off, Cas,” he cautioned, biting at his lip teasingly.

Cas's voice come out as a groan more than anything else. “I could if you would stop distracting me,” he breathed, fumbling to get the jacket off alongside Dean's hands.

“Yeah, I'm sure you're real bothered by this,” Dean laughed, pulling his own jacket off and practically throwing it across the room, custom tailoring be damned. The idea of Cas naked beneath him was more enticing than the damn jacket any day.

Cas finally got his own jacket off and threw it alongside Dean's. “Good, you're taking yours off, too. You look ridiculous in it.”

Dean smiled against his mouth, moving down to kiss at his neck. “That's not what you said earlier.”

Cas snorted, groaning softly as he felt Dean's teeth scrape against the skin below his ear. “I lied. It looks much better on the floor.”

“Jesus Christ, Cas,” Dean moaned, gripping the backs of Cas's thighs and lifting. Cas yelped in surprise as Dean hauled him over to the bed and dropped him down on top of it, knocking Cas's hat off in the process. He bent over him and started undoing the buttons on his shirt, trying to hurry without pulling any off. He wanted Cas naked like, yesterday, but he also didn't want to rip the buttons off his shirt if it was custom-made like his. That shit was pretty expensive.

Cas laughed and knocked Dean's own hat off, letting it fall wherever it may. “What, Dean, does someone not like my mouth?”

Dean snorted, kissing the skin he revealed as he unbuttoned Cas's shirt. “No, I think I like it too much.”

Cas laughed again, his voice ringing off the walls. Dean loved his laugh, it danced on the air like feathers but sounded heavy at the same time, like melted chocolate. He laughed with his whole body. “Mm, well, if you put your cock in it it'll stop talking.”

“Cas, for fuck's sake,” Dean cried as his hands slipped off the buttons. He reached a hand down and unbuttoned his tan slacks. He was as hard as ever and he hadn'teven gotten his shirt off. It was that damn mouth.

“What,Dean? Is the mental image a little much? I want to lay you out on the bed and make you cry with my mouth. You ever had stubble burn on your ass, Dean?” He shifted beneath him, bowing his back, “It's glorious.”

Dean almost wanted sob. “Cas, stop it. If you want me to get anywhere with this, stop talking. If you make me go off in my pants I swear to god I'll--”

“Okay, okay, fine, I'll stop,” Cas chuckled. “But hurry up.”

“I could if you would stop distracting me,” Dean repeated with a smile. “I'm trying.”

Cas sighed dramatically and reached down to help, getting his own shirt unbuttoned faster than Dean did and setting about unbuttoning Dean's. He got it off faster than

Dean would have thought possible, and the feeling of their bare chests pressed together after that was delicious. Dean sucked a hickey into Cas's ribs, and Cas laughed with the feeling. “Stop it, Dean, I'm ticklish there.”

Dean smiled into his skin, “I'll make a note of that,” he said as he kept sucking until a dark bruise colored his skin. He leaned back to admire the mark. “There. Now you won't forget me for a couple weeks.”

Cas propped himself up on his elbows, bemused. “Dean, I'm not going to forget you.”

Dean nodded, wanting to exit the conversation immediately. That was not something he wanted to get into at a time like this, or ever. “Okay, I believe you,” he panted, working his way back down Castiel's chest and stomach until he reached his waistband. He could see the hard line of his cock through his slacks. He licked his lips and leaned down to nuzzle into his thigh as he unzipped his slacks, popping the button and breathing in when the pressure was released around Cas's cock. He...was bigger than Dean was expecting. Scratch that, he was just _big_ in general. Dean resisted the urge to drool looking at him.

“Holy shit Cas,” he breathed, running a palm over his length through his boxers.

Cas gasped, “What, Dean?”

Dean shook his head, “N-nothing, nothing. You're just...you're _huge_ , Cas.”

Cas chuckled, “Don't worry about it, I'm not that big. I don't care if I am, I just want your mouth on me _now_.” It was almost a command, and Dean shivered despite himself.

He gripped the edge of Cas's waistband and pulled his slacks and boxers off in one swift movement, Cas lifting his hips to accommodate him. He almost gasped again when Cas was free of his clothing. He looked even better naked, as hard as that was to believe. His cock was kind of gorgeous, actually. Hard as hell and flushed pink, a pearly bead of precome resting on top. Dean couldn't help himself, he leaned forward and licked the precome off, his tongue dipping momentarily into Cas's slit. Cas gasped and almost shot off the bed, his hands fisting the sheets. “Dean!” He yelled, not expecting the feeling of his tongue on him.

“Mm, yes, Cas?” Dean teased, mouthing around the base of his cock.

“God, Dean,” Cas moaned, pulling harder at the sheets.

“What, Cas? You got something to say?” He asked, looking up at Cas through his lashes.

“Dean. Mouth. On my cock. Now,” he commanded. And, well, Dean couldn't resist a command.

He started slowly, licking the underside of Cas's cock and hovering his mouth over the top. Cas could feel him, could feel the heat of him, but Dean still didn't have his mouth on him. Cas grunted in frustration and pistoned his hips, his cock bumping against Dean's lip, smearing precome across it.

Dean chuckled, licking his lips. “You're getting a little impatient there, Cas.”

Cas rolled his eyes, “Would you put my fucking cock in your goddamn mouth already?”

Dean bit back a groan and finally relented, sliding his mouth down the shaft slowly until it brushed the back of his throat. He kept his hand fisted around the base and started bobbing his head, moving his tongue over the vein on the underside of Cas's cock every few bobs.

Cas was losing his mind. His grip was white-knuckled on the sheets, so tight he was afraid he'd rip them in his palms. He knew Dean had lush, soft-looking lips, cocksucking lips even, but he never could have imagined how they'd actually feel on him. He was afraid he'd sob at how good it felt.

“Dean. Oh my god, Dean,” he moaned, voice getting louder every time he spoke. He reached a hand down and threaded his fingers through Dean's hair. Not to push, not unless Dean asked, just for something to hold on to, something to ground himself. He almost started sobbing then when he realized that _feeling_ Dean's head bob with his own hand made it worse. It made it so much worse.

“Dean, holy fuck,” Cas called it out like a prayer, and he felt the smug bastard smile around his cock. He pulled off with a lewd-sounding pop.

“Yeah, you like that, Cas? Not so cocky now, are we?” Dean asked, spit and precome slicking up his chin and the edges of his mouth. Cas could only moan in reply. Dean laughed, “You can't even talk, this is amazing.”

Cas finally raised his head enough to level him with a look. "Shut up," he said, sighing and laying his head back down on the bed.

Dean licked at his mouth, laughing softly. "Maybe if you ask me nicely," he quirked before he returned to his ministrations. He tongued the bundle of nerves under the head of Cas's cock and smiled again at the long-suffering moan he received in reply. He licked down the shaft, nosing at Cas's balls before the hand in his hair tightened.

"S-stop. Dean, stop, please," Cas gasped, his hand relaxing before tightening again.

Dean pulled off, "You okay?" He asked, slightly concerned.

Cas laughed, "Yes, Dean, I'm fine. If you'd kept doing that I was going to come all over that pretty face of yours, and I have other plans."

Dean had been surprised at the way Cas talked before they even got up to the room, and he was still astounded at what came out of his mouth. He shook his head softly, "Jesus, Cas, I honestly didn't picture you as a dirty-talking guy."

Cas leaned up on his elbows, pulling his lower lip into his mouth. "Yeah, I guess I seem like the quiet, gruff, studious type, huh?" Dean nodded softly. "Well, surprise! I love fucking."

Dean's eyes widened before he laughed. "I can appreciate that." He leaned up Cas's body and captured his lips in a searing kiss, the lean line of his chest pressed against

Cas's. "Do tell me, what _exactly_ did you have planned for that cock of yours?"

Cas kissed him in return, nipping at his lower lip before he pulled back. "Hmm, I want to slick up that pretty little hole of yours and bury myself inside you."

Dean couldn't help the grunt of surprise that ripped its way out of him. He was no stranger to sex, and he wasn't a stranger to dirty talk, but he'd honestly never had anyone talk to him the way Cas did, and none of it did as much for him as Cas. "God, Cas," he groaned.

Cas shrugged, surprisingly innocent-looking, given his current position. "What? I find it tedious to beat around the bush. It's easier, and more fun, to get to the point. Now, come along; get up and switch me places." He fidgeted slightly and motioned for Dean to move.

Dean acquiesced and flopped down beside him on the bed, allowing Cas to shift and straddle his hips. Cas 'hmm'ed under his breath and reached a hand towards the nightstand Charlie had that looked like R2D2. "Do you think there's lube in one of these drawers?"

Dean considered it for a second, "Uh, probably. But I think she'd kill me if I used that. Let me up," he smacked Cas's thigh lightly.

Cas moved off him and allowed Dean to get up. He went over to the prop whip he'd been carrying around all night and slid the bottom of the handle over. He fumbled slightly, his hands still clumsy with his drunkness. A little vial of lube fell into his hand, and he held it aloft in glory and grinned at Cas.

"You carried that around in your _whip_?" Cas asked, letting out a snort that soon morphed into a full-blown laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"Hey!" Dean cried incredulously, "I like to be prepared."

"Yeah, I can see that, now get back over here."

Dean tripped his way excitedly back to the bed and handed the lube over, taking back his mantle underneath Cas.

Cas tapped the bottle against his palm and smiled. He flipped the cap open and squeezed some on his hands, rubbing it between his fingers to warm it before sliding his hand between Dean's legs. He rubbed his index and middle finger around the puckered muscle of his hole. Dean gasped softly and canted his hips. Cas smiled and thumbed the line of lube he left behind.

"Stop being a tease," Dean groaned, trying to push himself back on Cas's fingers to no avail. Cas's hold on his hips was too strong.

"Hmm, maybe. I can't tell if you really want it."

"Okay, fine. Cas, please."

Cas paused, "Cas please what?"

Dean groaned in frustration, "Cas, please finger me. Please, for the love of god, get inside me."

The feeling of Cas's fingers making their way inside him was utterly satisfying. Dean sighed in relief, going boneless against the sheets. "Yes, please. That was all I wanted."

Cas laughed, crooking the two fingers he had worked into Dean's hole, letting them brush over Dean's prostate. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone as hungry for my fingers as you, Dean," he teased, smirking wantonly as Dean's mouth dropped open in a silent gasp.

Dean couldn't reply to that even if he wanted to, he'd lost his mind a while ago to Cas's ministrations. Cas scissored his fingers, making sure they brushed Dean's prostate on every push in, and Dean was going insane. "Hurry up. Please, please hurry up." Dean panted, writhing against Cas's fingers, now three deep inside.

"I think I like the pace where it is," Cas considered, reaching his free hand up to barely brush over Dean's aching cock, just running his finger over its length.

"No, Cas, no, please," Dean gasped, arching into his touch. "If you don't hurry up I'm going to come soon, and I want to come with you in me. Please." If Cas wanted begging, begging was what he would get. If it got Dean to his endgame faster, he'd be shameless about it.

Cas grinned, all teeth, like a predator staring down at his prey. "Yes, that's what I like to hear." He scissored this three fingers a few times, making sure Dean was properly prepped, before he leaned over the bed and grabbed a condom from his slacks. He smiled sheepishly when Dean raised his eyebrow, just barely having his wits about him enough to do so.

Cas shrugged, "I like to be prepared, too, just not in the same way as you, apparently." He smiled and pulled his hand from Dean, using it to roll the condom on. He lined himself up and pushed in slowly, savoring the feeling of Dean tight and hot around him. He groaned, low and soft, pushing in further until he was flush against

Dean's ass, both hands clutched at his hips.

Dean groaned, louder and not as softly as Cas, his hands almost tearing the sheets to pieces. "Fuck, yes. God, that was what I wanted. Fuck yes."

Cas bit his lip and leaned over, grabbing Dean's mouth in a kiss, both of them sloppy already from alcohol and sensations. He grasped Dean's thighs and threw his legs over his shoulders, changing his angle so that he would brush against Dean's prostate on every thrust.

Dean kept his grip tight in the sheets, biting his own lips to try and keep the sounds threatening to escape inside him. Eventually he couldn't help it and let out his own series of small whimpers, letting himself just rock with the motion of Cas's thrusts. He felt boneless already and he hadn't even reached his climax.

Cas's head snapped up when he heard the whimpers, and something in his eyes softened. He removed his hands from Dean's hips and grabbed Dean's hands instead, pinning them above his head and intertwining his fingers with Dean's. He stared into his eyes, still marred and clouded with alcohol and lust, but more beautiful than anything Cas had ever seen anyway. He slowed his hips, going from the brutal thrust he was working up to back down to gentle rolling. The motion was slower but more sensual somehow, more intimate despite itself. He looked into Dean's eyes and couldn't resist leaning down to give him another slow kiss, shorter than the others when he heard Dean's complaining grunt at being bent in half.

Dean kept whimpering, a sound that turned into a full-blown moan when Cas disentangled one of his hands and used it to stroke Dean's cock, keeping pace with his slow rolls. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and Dean didn't want to think about that too hard, didn't want to consider the possibilities. It was a little hard with his mind addled and loosened by all his drinks. "Cas, shit, Cas, I―I feel like I'm going to blow away. Like I'm going to float off in pieces. Fuck, Cas, harder."

Cas acquiesced, snapping his hips harder on the forward thrusts. He still rolled his hips, but his movements were sharper, more refined and pointed. He pushed againstDean's prostate on every thrust, and it only took a few more rolls of his hips and strokes of his hand before Dean was coming all over Cas's fist and his own stomach. He let lose with a guttural moan, and Cas wasn't far behind, burying himself in Dean's ass before he let out his own groan and came.

 

For a while, the only sound in the room was Dean and Cas's breathing, both panting, chests heaving. Cas pulled out slowly, wincing at the overstimulated feel of his softening cock. Dean gave his own wince when Cas was all the way out, his hands relaxing down to his sides as Cas let go to take the condom off, tie it, and throw it into a nearby trashcan. He almost missed, and felt lucky it wasn't any farther away.

Dean gripped the sheets a couple times, kneading them tiredly in his palms, trying to catch his breath. He caught Cas's eye and gave him a wide grin, "Damn, Cas, that was--"

Cas cut him off with a kiss, moving to lay down beside him. He pulled away and gave Dean his own tired smile. "I know. Trust me, I know." They grinned at each other and laughed softly, Dean readjusting on the bed so he could curl up to Cas.

"I knew you needed to take that costume off," Dean teased, yawning quietly and slinging an arm over Cas's waist. He'd just met the dude, he'd just fucked the dude, and yet somehow he felt as if he'd known him for years, as if the idea of holding him while he slept was more intimate than what they just did together.

Cas tucked his arm up under Dean's neck and shoulders, playing with the hair at the base of his skull by his ear. "Yes, well, I knew you should take yours off, if I had to remove mine."

Dean snorted softly and curled closer, pushing his face into the crook of Cas's neck. "Thank you," he whispered, his breathing slowly evening out. Before Cas knew it, Dean had fallen asleep.

Before Cas knew it, _he_ fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Cas woke up before the sun did. He cracked an eye open, looked out the nearby window, and could see the sun just peeking above the horizon. It would rise soon, and he wanted to be back to his apartment by then. He already knew his overprotective brother would be questioning where he was the night before. He sat up to slide out of bed, and that's when he felt the weight of Dean's arm around his waist. He hadn't noticed before because he'd gotten used to the way it felt. He paused in his movements and glanced down at the sleeping form in his bed. Dean looked peaceful in his sleep, his eyelashes brushing over his freckled cheeks. The barest beginnings of sun rays shone through the window and made his skin glow where they touched him. Cas smiled, he hadn't been drunk enough to forget anything from the night before, and he remembered it all with beautiful clarity. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here with Dean's arms wrapped around him and his face tucked into his neck. Dean was perfect, but Cas had to go.

Cas couldn't stay any longer, or else he wouldn't be able to convince himself to leave, and he needed to. If he stayed, the building tension inside of him that had been mounting since the night before would explode, and he'd never be able to separate himself from Dean. He had a little crush, that's all. He had just slept with the man the night before, but that's all it was. A one night stand. Dean wouldn't want him in the light of day, he knew that. Michael would also kill him if he got home any later than was absolutely necessary. His brother was the head of the student committee of the entire college they both went to. Everyone knew Michael Novak. His brother carried a lot of weight on his shoulders, and was a very serious and pragmatic man. He walked with an air of duty and kept Cas on a tight leash.

Cas sighed through his nose and carefully extracted himself from Dean's arms, sliding out of the bed. Something inside him told him to stay, but that part was at war with another part of himself that said he needed to leave. The morning after was always awkward for both parties, and Cas didn't want to make that doubly so if Dean didn't even want him to be there. It was better for him to leave, so he did.

Before he left, though, he couldn't help but leave one piece of himself behind. He didn't have it in him to just leave. While he was searching around on the floor for all the bits of his clothes, he found the little bottle of lube from the night before; it'd gotten tossed there sometime throughout the night. He picked it up and smiled at it in his palm. It brought back memories that he'd always be happy to think about. He decided to return it back to the handle of Dean's whip, shaking his head and laughing quietly that Dean even had a lube pocket in his costume. He reached down and picked up Dean's whip, glancing between it and the lube in his hand, and he had an idea. He went over to Charlie's desk and grabbed a Post-It note from her little cat-shaped holder. He grabbed a pen from a mug of pens and, in his neat, slanted writing, wrote _You were a perfect Indiana_. He signed it with his name, rolled it up, and put it inside the handle of the whip, along with the bottle of lube. He hoped Dean would find it sometime soon.

Quietly, so as not to wake Dean, he crept out of the room and from the house, sparing one last glance at the beautiful boy in the bed.

 

When Dean woke up the next morning, he was subjected to a barrage of feelings. The first being the ungodly amount of sunlight pouring through the window and searing straight into his brain. The second being the horrendous headache pounding its way through his temples, and the third the bleary and unwelcome sight of his best friend glaring at him from across the room.

"What the fuck, Dean?" Charlie groused, taking in the sight of Dean's clothes spread haphazardly on her bedroom floor.

Dean reached a hand up and rubbed his temples, sliding the hand down his face and sighing tiredly. He felt like something was missing, and when he reached a hand out, expecting a body, he found nothing. He didn't remember too much from the night before, but he knew he'd had sex with someone, he remembered that much from the feeling in his ass and small flashes of memory he still had. Whoever it was had obviously not stayed until morning.

Dean groaned tiredly, squinting his eyes. "Uh, sorry? I was drunk, dude, don't hold me accountable for my actions."

Charlie laid a hand on her hip and stared at him, the patented death stare that was one of the very few things Dean was actually afraid of. "Dean Winchester, I will hold you accountable for whatever I like, you totally have your naked ass all over my sheets. And also your naked-" she shuddered and gestured towards Dean "-other things; I don't want to know. You so owe me. Like, owe me your soul owe me."

Dean shrugged, wincing again as the light reentered his eyes. "I don't care. I think I had some of the best sex of my life last night, even though I can't remember too much of it."

Charlie snorted, "Good, I hope it was worth it, because you're going to help me clean my house. And my sheets, you're going to help me wash my sheets."

Dean rolled his eyes but decided it'd be the good thing to do.

 

After showering in Charlie's shower and putting on the spare emergency change of clothes he'd kept there for years, he made his way downstairs to find Charlie slapping a Bloody Mary on the counter. "Drink up, comrade. That's your end-all cure-all and you need to be in the best shape possible to help me whip my house back into place."

Dean sat down at the island and stared forlornly into his drink. "He left," he said, more to himself than anyone else, picking up his glass and taking a sip of it. He flinched a little from all the tomato, the alcohol in it mixing weird in his throat, but it did help clear his head a little. He took a bigger sip the next time.

"What in the name of Gandalf are you talking about?" Charlie asked, turning around from the stove where she was no doubt cooking eggs.

"The...the dude I was with last night. He wasn't there this morning, he just left."

Charlie turned around and put both her hands on her chest, her spatula sticking up in the air. "Are you telling me that Dean Winchester is moaning over his breakfast because his one night stand didn't stay around?" She rushed over to the other side of the island and leaned across it, swiping a hand across his forehead. "Tell me, do you feel feverish? Sick, maybe? Do you feel as if you're infected with a baby alien due to burst from your chest at any moment? This is not the Dean that I know."

Dean sighed and stared into his drink, not sure how to explain the mix of emotions swirling around inside him. "Yeah, I know, it's not that. He was just – he was really great, and I figured he'd be the type to stick around until I kicked him out. I guess that's not the case."

Charlie patted his shoulder in commiseration. "Oh, yeah, I feel your pain. Gilda left before the morning, too, but that was mostly because _she didn't get to stay in the first place because some jackass took my bed_!" She yelled through the whole second part of her sentence, hitting Dean on the arm every few words.

"Hey, hey, take it easy. I'm sorry, okay? I was pretty trashed and not thinking straight."

Charlie smiled, "Yeah, not straight indeed. I saw you eyeing up some dude at the party last night. That would also be why you're sitting like that." Charlie pointed her spatula at Dean, indicating his position carefully resting on one ass cheek. If he sat on both it would sting a bit.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah, it wasn't a girl."

Charlie gasped, "Oh, no, I'm so disappointed. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to stop associating with you. I can't be seen with gay people." Charlie winked and laughed at her own joke before she returned to her eggs.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, very funny. But seriously, I haven't pulled a dude in a long time. I wasn't properly prepared for the situation at hand, okay? It's been a while, so yeah, I'm kinda sore."

Charlie raised her hands in defense. "Take a chill, dude, I was kidding. I'm happy you got someone last night. What was his name?"

Dean had to think about it, and he immediately felt guilty that he did when most of the memories from the night before came back to him, rushing through the haze of sleepiness that had been clouding his brain. "Cas. It was short for something, but I don't remember what."

Charlie considered it for a second. "Are you sure? I don't remember inviting a 'Cas' to my party."

Dean shrugged, finishing off the Bloody Mary and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "Well, he was here." He looked off in the distance, distracted. "He was everywhere."

Charlie grabbed a plate from her cupboard and poured her eggs from the pan to the plate. "Whoa, hey, stop there. I don't need to hear about it in explicit detail. The mental image is enough."

Dean laughed and walked to the sink to throw his glass in. "Aw, c'mon, Charlie, I had a good time, don't you want to hear about it? That's what best friends are for!"

Charlie shook her head, "Sure, but not that part of your evening. I may be your best friend, but I also do not want to hear about where your dick's been. Maybe if I were straighter."

Dean laughed harder at that and gave Charlie a smile when she laid the plate of eggs in front of him. "Thanks, Charlie. For everything. Sorry I fucked someone in your bed."

Charlie winked at him, "No big deal, really. You're the one washing the sheets anyway. I'll probably just change them, too, stick the other ones in quarantine or in the corner for a time out for a while."

"Don't punish the sheets for my ill deeds."

"No, but I must. They participated in the ill deeds."

Dean grinned at her and used his fork to scrape the last of the eggs into his mouth. "If you insist, my queen."  
Charlie bowed to him, and they both laughed at each other in the warm light of the kitchen. Dean almost forgot the hole growing inside him from waking up alone.

 

Dean stayed at Charlie's house, helping her clean the remains of the party. Her house wasn't completely trashed, but it wasn't very clean, either. Cups, plates, and other miscellaneous party supplies were strewn about. They even found a pair of panties stuffed behind the couch. Charlie had picked them up and shown them to Dean, grinning. "Should I keep these?" She asked, and Dean snatched them from her hand to inspect them.

"No, but I think I might," he teased, laughing before they jointly decided to stuff them in the trash bag with everything else.

He was there for a few hours before everything was finally clean. He and Charlie stood in her living room, surveying the good job they had done. "Looks nice," Dean grunted, smiling at Charlie.

"Yeah, thanks for your help," Charlie said, crossing her arms and looking around.

Dean nodded, "You're welcome. I'm gonna go grab my costume and head home."

"Okay," Charlie padded back towards her kitchen as Dean went to her bedroom.

He started collecting his clothes off the floor, piling them over one arm. When he got his whip from the floor, he slid the end open on impulse. He had put that little bottle of lube in the handle mostly as a joke, not expecting that he'd actually need it. He couldn't remember whether he'd put it back or not, and figured he should check because Charlie would not appreciate finding that on her floor. He opened the bottom and the little bottle of lube slid into his waiting palm, but so did a rolled up Post-it note. Curious, Dean opened it. He said it out loud to himself, reading the slanted, small handwriting. "You were a perfect Indiana...Castiel Novak." Dean thought about it for a moment, mulling the name around in his head. "Castiel, so that's what Cas was short for." He thought a few more seconds, and a look of horror came over his face. "Oh my god," he whispered, dropping the whip and the clothes to the floor and sprinting from the room.

"Charlie! Oh my god, Charlie!" He yelled, sliding into the kitchen and almost running into the island before he stopped himself.

"God, Dean, calm down, what is it? Did Satan rise from Hell through my floor or something?" Charlie looked up from where she was preparing a sandwich for lunch.

"Cas, his name was short for Castiel." He forced his clenched fist open and pushed the Post-it across the counter to Charlie, who unrolled it and read it with a similar look of horror.

"Castiel is not a common name, so that means--" she read on, her eyes widening when she got to the bottom. "Oh my god, Dean. You fucked Castiel Novak."

Dean nodded, swallowing loudly. "I fucked Castiel Novak."

Charlie dropped the Post-it note and put a hand to her mouth in shock. "Dean, oh my god. You fucked _Castiel Novak_."

Dean nodded again, "I know I did."

Charlie smacked a hand against the counter. "Dean!" She yelled, as if he didn't understand the gravity of the situation. "You fucked _Michael Novak's little brother_."

"I...fucked...Michael Novak's...little brother..." Dean trailed off, shaking his head at himself. "I fucked the little brother of the leader of the board of students. Charlie, what the hell am I going to do?"

Charlie shook her head in return. "Dude, I have no idea. How did you not recognize him when he said his name?"

"I don't know! I see Michael all the time but I never see Castiel, how was I supposed to know? I was also shitfaced and I don't think he ever said his last name. I'd remember that. There's no way I'd forget that."

Charlie reached down slowly and retrieved the rolled bit of paper, rolling it around in her hand. "I can't believe this happened. I knew you sometimes had bad luck, Dean, but god this is ridiculous. How'd you get into this situation?"

"I have no idea, Charlie. I have no idea."

Charlie laid her glass of water on the counter, leaning over it to talk to Dean as plopped onto a bar stool in a daze. "Are you pursuing this?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know. I wasn't going to when I first woke up alone, but knowing he left a note, and knowing he's Michael's brother? That changes things.Michael probably wanted him back home, I can't imagine the leader of the board of students would have been okay with his littlest Novak staying out all night partying like Cas did. It makes me think that maybe he didn't want to leave. And he―Charlie, he was good. I might want to pursue that. Should I pursue that?" He grabbed Charlie's water and took a contemplative sip of it.

Charlie snatched the glass back, "Excuse me, that's mine. Get your own." She leaned against the counter on one elbow, "I don't know. Is he worth it? If yes, then yes. If no, then, well-" she shrugged "-no, don't do it."

Dean nodded, glancing past Charlie and out the window behind her, thinking quietly. "I think he might be." He couldn't shake the warm press of Cas's hands from his mind, the way he spoke, and his beautiful eyes. Dean didn't think he'd ever get Cas from his mind, and that made him worth it. That definitely made him worth it. "...He is. I think he is."

Charlie gave him a wide grin and leaned over the counter to smack his shoulder. "Well then congrats, young Padawan, you have a boy to go chase after."

"Can it wait until Monday? I'm hungover and I don't want to step foot on campus until I have to."

Charlie laughed, "Yeah, go ahead and wait until Monday. I think there's a meeting that day for the council, anyway, Cas will probably be waiting outside the hall for Big Brother."

"Yeah, Charlie, that could work."

 

Dean originally planned on going home and wallowing in self-pity, but with the new discoveries, he felt energized and ready. He spent the rest of the day lounging around with Charlie, playing video games and discussing battle strategies. By the time Monday rolled around, he was ready.

 

He mulled outside Gleeson Hall after his last class, ignoring the confused stares from other students who knew he didn't belong there. Gleeson was the main hall of campus, where the Dean's office and conference halls were located. It was where the board of students held their meetings. The board of students was like student council, but more powerful in comparison. They made decisions for all the clubs and groups around campus, where things were held and where. Sometimes they even orchestrated sit-ins or peaceful marches when tensions rose on campus. They were, for all intents and purposes, the parliament of the entire college. Their leader, Michael Novak, was known around campus as the prodigal son of Charles Novak, the Dean of the campus. The Novak and Milton family, cousins by charge, controlled the campus with an iron fist. Michael was apparently a maestro at piano, excelled greatly in his field of study, and was one of the most serious and highbrow people on campus, including Charles. Dean was somewhat terrified of him, and was extremely afraid that he would see Michael before he'd see Cas. Michael was sure to chase him off the grounds if he caught sight of him.

Thankfully, Dean saw him first. He came leading a pack, flocked by the rest of the board. Dean could see Anna and Gabriel Milton behind him, followed by Uriel, Raphael, and Hester. Trailing behind them all, like a duckling trying to get away from its mother, was Castiel.  
Dean ducked behind the edge of the building, breathing quietly as Michael walked past him. He could hear him discussing the upcoming football game, something about fund-raising opportunities. He could hear Uriel's deep voice agreeing with him as Anna opened the door for the party. When Cas came up to the door, Dean leaned around the corner just enough to see the scene. He watched as Anna smiled softly at him, apologized, and then shut the door in his face. Cas wasn't phased, it seemed as if this happened every time they had a meeting. He pulled a book from the bag over his shoulders, sat on the top step, and started reading quietly.  
Dean stepped out from around the corner and cleared his throat, startling Cas, who seemed enthralled in his book. He dropped it into his lap and jumped. Dean smiled,

"Uh, hi, Cas."

Cas blushed, picking his book back up and shutting it properly, laying it on the step beside him. "Oh, hello, Dean. What are you doing here?"

Dean leaned against the base of the gargoyle statue at the bottom of the stairs, crossing his arms and facing Cas. "I saw your note. I didn't know you were the younger Novak."

Cas rubbed a hand over his neck uncomfortably. "Um, yes. I am. I prefer not to let that be common knowledge. People would...treat me differently if they all knew. Most don't know my face, only my name, so it works in my favour."

Dean nodded, "And you didn't think that would be important information to inform me of?"

Cas blushed harder and nodded, "Not particularly, no. At least not until the next day. He leaned forward. "Tell me, Dean, would you still have slept with me, had you known who my brother was?"

"I'm...not sure. I see your point now."

Cas nodded succinctly. "Exactly. That's what I thought. Besides, I don't know your last name, either." He patted the open space beside him on the wide stair. "Come, sit."

Dean made his way up the stairs and plopped down beside Cas, his thigh pressed against his. "Yeah, but I'm not someone like a Novak." He paused, biting his lip. "Winchester. Dean Winchester."

Cas clasped his hands together in his lap. "Winchester, okay. Look, Dean, I apologize for not telling you who I was, but I honestly didn't think it mattered much in that situation. Not to mention I wasn't exactly sober, either."

Dean breathed out through his nose. "Yeah, I know. I get it. Is that why you left in the morning, then? Michael wanted you home?"

Cas nodded, "Yes, exactly. That was why I left my last name on the note. I feared you'd think I left. That wasn't the case. Michael _did_ want me home as soon as possible, and I definitely did get reamed for getting back as late as I did. I didn't want to leave, honestly."

Dean sighed in what he realized was relief, letting go of a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Good. It sort of sucked to wake up to an empty bed."

Cas put a hand on Dean's lower arm, his thumb rubbing across the material of his shirt. "I can imagine, and I am truly sorry for that. I didn't want to wake you, so I left."  
"It wasn't because you didn't want to be there anymore?"

Cas shook his head, taking a deep breath. "No, and to be completely honest, I was a little scared by exactly how _much_ I wanted to stay there all day. I had a good a time,

Dean." He paused until Dean looked at him, and then he held his gaze with his eyes. "I had a really good time. Maybe the best of my life."

Dean grinned, his own cheeks tinting pink. "I did, too, Cas."

Cas grinned back just as wide. "Good. Is that why you came here?"

Dean shrugged one shoulder, "I figured this might be the best place to find you. If you want, even though we went about this ass-backwards, if you want...would youlike to, I don't know, grab a coffee sometime?"

Cas patted Dean's arm, "Dean, I don't think you know how much I would love that."

He leaned forward, Dean met him in the middle, and when their lips met, they slotted together like puzzle pieces. Dean had no idea what this meant for him, for either of them, but the sheer possibilities both excited and terrified him.

They were broken apart far too early. Not having known how long they'd been sitting there, Dean had no idea that Michael's meeting had ended. Dean heard someone clearing their throat, and he jerked away from Cas in fear, almost falling down the stairs. He looked up tentatively to see Michael, standing on the stairs in all his glory.

"Castiel, who is this?" He asked, and he sounded like a Wall Street businessman with his clipped tone.

Cas motioned towards Dean, "This is Dean Winchester. I met him at a party. We might be dating now," he eyed Dean carefully, and Dean nodded at him, just barely. His face lit up in a grin.

Michael nodded, "I see. Winchester." He looked down at Dean, raising an eyebrow. "Your younger brother, Sam, is in the pre-law program, correct?"

Dean nodded, and Michael pursed his lips. "He's doing well. He'll make a good lawyer." He turned back to Cas. "So will I be seeing more of him around here?"

Cas nodded, "I hope so."

Michael raised his chin. "Fine. That may be, but please, refrain from making out on my steps during meetings. Home now, Castiel, we have things to attend to." He stalked past him, his hands in his pockets.

Cas hurried off the step and stashed his book away in his bag, offering a hand to Dean.

The rest of the council followed Michael out, and Dean received mixed reactions from all of them. Anna looked delighted and happy at the both of them, Gabriel pulled the sucker from his mouth and gave Dean a lewd grin, obviously checking him out, and Hester, Raphael, and Uriel just looked on in disgust, noses raised as they walked past.

When the door of the hall swung shut, Castiel started to hustle down the steps after them. "Sorry, Dean," he apologized as he went, "I have to go. No other option."

Dean nodded, slightly in awe of the people who had passed him. "No, no, it's fine. I understand."

Cas moved to go past him, and Dean grabbed his arm before he could get too far. "And Cas," he began, grinning softly.

"Yes, Dean?" Cas looked behind him, smiling at the look on his face.

"You were a pretty amazing Indiana, too."

Cas simply blushed and hurried on behind his family.

Dean stood on the steps for a few minutes, basking in how well that conversation went. When he'd finished that, he started on his way back towards the dorms. Damn,did he have a story to tell Sammy. And, he sighed, he'd have to tell Jess that she may, in fact, have been right in her prediction about his night.


End file.
